The Heart or the Fist - Reborn
by CrystalMoonlightII
Summary: Two combatants prepare for battle in the King of Iron Fist Tournament Six. A young Japanese woman, is driven by the desire to fight in memory of her departed brother. Meanwhile, a British kickboxer, wants nothing more than to exact revenge against Julia Chang for a loss that cost him his career... (Rewrite of the original - back by request! Currently on a trail run!)
1. Fighting for Retribution

**This story is a rewrite of my old project known as Heart or the Fist. It's back by popular demand, restructured with an expanded and slightly altered story premise. These first two chapters are trail chapters as I'm still undecided on if I'm pleased with the quality so far. If you enjoy the read then please let me know.**

 **I usually wouldn't release stories under a trial, but with my limited time and several other stories in the works I can't afford to split my attention unless I feel a story meets my standards - I'm a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to my writing projects. A special thanks to all the readers of the original project for coming back again. Your support is most welcome.**

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 **Fighting for Retribution**

"Defeat – it cost me everything. The good name of my family was built on the precept of skill and power. It took one night, Steve…. One night and everything went to hell."

A bar – illuminated in neon green, patrons huddled around tables sipping their beers and cocktails. The oaken chairs and furniture sat dotted around like little marbles amidst a sea of people. In the sea of patrons, two men sat at the forefront beside the bar. Scowls honed in as one of the duo reached across for the remote and changed the channel from the football game to something different.

' _News spreads across the world like wildfire as the King of Iron Fist Tournament Six has been announced. So far, there has been a multitude of invites and entries from prominent fighting figures across the globe. With the fights starting just three weeks with now, and just a handful of slots remaining… how will the roster shape up this time around? Stay tuned for more.'_

A gentleman stood from his seat, peroxide blond highlights amess in his brownish hair. His eyes, green as emeralds, honed in on the television set as he scooped up his denim jacket and threw it over his shoulder, taking his time to run a hand across his rugged chin in reflection.

Beside him stood his companion, a man of solid muscular build with bright, natural blonde locks set dead straight. His tree-like arms bulged against his sleeves as he placed a hand upon his friend's shoulder.

"I've known you for how long, Mike Lennox? This time you will make it – no matter what. Trust me mate. I've seen the fire in your eyes since the moment she took you down. You're different… the showman in you has quieted."

However, Mike, the green eyed, denim clad bruiser of the pair, didn't seem convinced, "It's okay for you, Fox. You're boxing world champion. Me? I've had to bounce across the world from street fight to street fight, London to Thailand in the hopes of clawing my way back to the top. Losing to her in the qualifiers for the third Iron Fist all those years back… it changed my outlook."

"And yet you didn't back down," Steve continued with a supportive pat on the shoulder as they made their way through the bustling patrons and toward the doorway, "This time around we're both entering… and between us… I'm sure we'll be able to find her and give her the old one-two."

Lennox, comforted by the support of his comrade, allowed his lips to curve into a smile as he held out his hand, "I'm counting on you, Steve. Noble cause or not… she destroyed my credibility and made me question everything I'd learned as a fighter."

"I can't let it go," Mike continued," No… I'll never let it go," with a clench of the fist, he steeled himself, walking out into the rain and looking up at the cloudy moon in the sky. England, it never stopped raining, no matter how much he wished it would.

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A reassuring hand on the shoulder from Steve snapped him back from his frustrations, at least long enough to make him disarm, "Well… come next week we'll be out in Japan, and the moment of truth's going to come fast," the boxer smiled with confidence, "Your loss a couple of years back? It'd say it's been a learning experience for you, Mike. You've found all sorts of dedication to your art."

"I guess you're right," yet in truth, the young man didn't feel anything but a quiet frustration toward his former weakness. He'd beaten so many people, bested so many powerful foes, become one of the best when it came to Kickboxing, an art he'd honed sharply with his own flare of brawl fighting.

Yet none of it mattered –it would never matter. Not until the day, he settled the score for his humiliating defeat those years prior.

"You know I'm right, pal," came Steve with a stern nod of his radiant blond hair, "Anyway… It's about time I head out for the night. Got a training session on the morrow, you know what it's like," he smiled, holding out his hand to Lennox, "Put her there, mate. I'll be seeing you when we touch base in Tokyo."

The two shook hands, their eyes resolute in unison for the battles ahead. Finally sated and feeling some assurance, Mike narrowed his eyes, a smirk of confidence twisting his expression as he thought of what the future might bring. "May the best man win," he chuckled, "And if I end up fighting you in the tournament, Fox… don't hold back. Give it your all!"

"Amen to that, Mike, amen," the boxer shook and turned to take his leave, "I have a good feeling about this one… like we're both going to find what we're looking for."

With that, Steve took his leave across the street – and Mikey watched attentively as his comrade hailed a taxi. "Have a good night, friend."

Left alone now, the kickboxer took off down the street, slung on his jacket and slipped his hands into the pockets for warmth. The clouds had finally cleared, thank God, and it was finally shaping up to be a decent night, what was left of it at least.

However, in the loneliness of the neon lights and the hustle and bustle of traffic on the streets, the rugged young man allowed his thoughts to wander in reflection.

"Two years since she beat me… and I've not since forgotten her face. In light of everything, I need to ask myself a question. After all… I've clung to this resentment for so long that I'm beginning to wonder…."

The moon acting as his guide, Mike stared upward in hoping that the clear lunar light would soothe his conflicted soul, "Even if I'm able to beat her will I find the answers that I'm looking for? Will settling the score make me feel contented as a fighter, after all this time?"

No – he couldn't think like that. Under no circumstances could his resolve begin to waver now. For so long now he'd held the fire in his heart and twisted it to fuel his strength. He needed it above all else to keep the flames within his heart ablaze. For better or worse, his path had been set, and there was no outcome to be had aside from redemption.

"Victory or bust… there's no middle ground this time. I can't go back home to my family a loser… a failure…. I've got to beat her no matter what. After all, my uncle sacrificed too much when he took me into his home all those years ago. He gave his career so I could have a life… I can't let him down."

Indeed, there was only one possible outcome, and given the determination he felt in his heart, it was painfully obvious what had to be done. Alas, with fury burning in his eyes, he glared at the purest white of the moon and allowed his inner fire to roam free, his power, alight within the confines of his chenched fists.

"I don't care what it takes… Julia Chang… you won't defeat me a second time. I swear, on everything that makes me a fighter… next time we meet… you'll know what it's like to fall from grace. I can't show compassion anymore… and I can never allow myself to feel defeat a second time.

After all, emblazoned upon his jacket was the mantra which he loved by. Stitched upon his jacket, was the name which he wore with pride above all else.

"Lennox… my name is Mike Lennox…. I come from a family of proud fighters… and no matter what… against all the odds… I won't fail."

Into the darkness of night Mike travelled, his beating heart set upon a single powerful goal – retribution. His battle would soon begin, but the outcome was something that even he didn't know. Only time would tell.

 **To be continued….**

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 **Thanks again for your time, and if you enjoyed it then please feel free to take a look at the next chapter. I'm very grateful for the support!**


	2. Fighting for Family

**Thanks for taking the time to come back and read a little more. Your interest in this little side project is most appreciated.**

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 **Fighting for Family**

Some people fought for personal gratification. They wanted nothing more than to bathe in the glowing lights of stadiums while adoring fans chanted their name. Meanwhile, to others, a reason to fight was nothing more than the desire for personal advancement. Those who sought power wanted to be able to wield it against those who posed a challenge. In addition, there were those who simply wished to use the power they were blessed with to protect those closest to them. In this world of conflicting ideals, there was many a reason to fight. Some stood out, while others simply sat back in quiet recognition of their feats.

However, amidst this sea of ideals stood a young woman of a more honest heart. She wished for nothing more than to fight in the memory of the person she had loved and lost. After all, war was a horrible thing, it cost so many innocent people their lives. That said; Jin Kazama's conflict with the entire world did not seem as though it would stop anytime soon. Amidst such a sea of pain and anguish there had to be a flicker of hope, did there not? If not, the tragedy of it all would overwhelm her.

"You can do this, Tsuki. You can do this."

A young woman kept her eyes upon the mirror. With a single deft movement, she finished applying the final lacquered chopstick to her hair and nodded with resolve. Stepping back slightly, her gaze fell upon her figure in the mirror.

Her slender form stood adorned in a pair of skinny black jeans complete with a white top, over which she wore a snuggly fitting leather jacket. Flexing her glove clad fingers; the young woman clenched them into a fist. She steadied her breathing and brought that first to rest against upon her heart, "You have to do this… in honor of the people you lost…."

It was now or never. Turning to face the door, she reached for her keys from the dresser and made her way to the door. "Little brother… I hope you're watching… wherever you may be."

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It rained heavily on this late fall evening. Cloudy skies signalled another day of dismal weather to match the mood of a great many passers-by in the streets of Tokyo. While everyone else walked forward, Tsukiyo Nishimura felt as though she was walking backward. For the longest time her life felt as though, it hadn't been going anywhere at all. No matter in which direction she walked there never seemed to be a destination at the end.

"Tsuki! Tsukiyo! Hold on for a second, okay?"

Finally, her footsteps came to a halt. The girl twitched at the mention of her name. She let a gentle sigh escape her lips before turning to face the direction from which the voice came. A light tapping of her foot signalled her impatience, as she looked onward.

"What is it, Minami?" Tsuki ran a hand through her damp onyx hair and frowned softly. "I appreciate the concern, but I don't think I'm going to change my mind."

A slightly portly girl came to a stop before she huddled herself beneath her friend's umbrella, "Tsuki-chan. You need to think about it a little more, first." The roundish girl ran a nervous hand through her bleached teal hair and gave a sigh. She fidgeted nervously under the umbrella in testament to the unease she felt. After all, she did not want to see her best friend get hurt.

"I'm serious, Tsuki," came Minami's voice in concern, "You're talking about Iron Fist, here. Some of the best fighters in the whole world enter. Think about it…. Paul Phoenix, Hwoarang, Steve Fox... Mi-"

"Minami," Tsukiyo chuckled softly and placed a gentle arm around her friend's middle. "I appreciate your worrying for more than anything, but I have to do this…. I need to do this… for Taiyo."

Minami's expression twisted into that of a gentle frown before she finally nodded in defeat. When Tsuki had her mind made up there was little that would stop her. "Okay," she spoke quietly while trying to force a little smile. "Good luck…. Just… promise me you will come back safely. My mom and dad will be worried sick about you."

Tsuki smiled warmly out of gratitude for the much-appreciated concern her friend showed. Minami Shogo. Their friendship spanned back as far as middle school. The big girl of the class and the artistic loner with a passion for martial arts. Together, they made quite a pair indeed.

"I promise you, Minami… I'm going to come back in one piece from this." Tsuki moved to pat her friend on the head before smiling like a Cheshire cat. "Besides… I could never leave you all on your own. I'd get lonely without my panting buddy."

"Tsuki," Minami sniffled and threw her arms around her taller; shapelier friend and squeezed her as tightly as a teddy bear. "I promise… when you fight I'll come and cheer you on! I'll cheer louder than anyone else in the stadium!"

"Unf!" Tsukiyo squirmed slightly as she struggled to catch her breath, "Mini-chan…. I appreciate it, but… you're squeezing me too- I can't breathe…."

"Oh, SORRY! I don't know what came over me."

Miss Nishimura let out a sigh of relief once she was released from the iron grip. She took several little breaths before finally looking content with herself again. "Well," she started cheerfully. "I'll be off. Take care of yourself, Minami!"

Tsukiyo cast her powerful brown gaze toward a towering building of glass and metal. It stood illuminated with big signs and neon lights in the darkened sky. "The Mishima Administrative Building. This is where they're holding tournament sign up."

Tsuki sighed with relief, "They always used to say this place doubles as a hotel and a business centre for the Zaibatsu, but… I didn't think it was so big."

Her heart started to beat at double time in her chest. With every passing footstep, she felt it get heavier and heavier. By the time, she reached the building there was a slight feeling of nausea wracking her. The reality finally hit home, "The best fighters in the world… but… I have to try!"

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Nodding to herself, Tsukiyo pulled down her umbrella and stepped toward the revolving glass doors. There was no turning back now. She looked toward the door attendant clad in red with a gentle smile. "I'm here to sign up for the tournament. This is the right place, isn't it?"

The attendant looked upward with tired eyes. For a couple of moments he did not respond.

Tsukiyo took a moment to mull everything over in her head. Perhaps this was the wrong place, after all. She could not help but feel the slightest bit uneasy now that the final moment was upon her.

"It certainly is, Miss." After a respectful bow, the young woman watched as the door was pulled open for her. "Please head over to the sign-up desk."

"Thank you," After giving a small bow of her own she stepped inside. The sense of relief in her heart was very real indeed.

"Oh… wow." Just the lobby of this colossal building was almost like stepping into another world entirely. There was not just a sign up desk. At their side of it stood tables. Many people, she assumed who were other fighters or just fans, sat in conversation.

At a single glance alone, she saw famous faces, "Marshall Law and Paul Phoenix."

They sat at a table with a large bottle of sake. Their idle chatter was some of the warmest Tsuki had ever seen. "The news article on these two was right… they are best friends."

It only made the weight of the situation feel more real. By now, her heart thumped so heavily that she felt dizzy. The best in the whole world really were here to fight. This wasn't like one of those little regional bouts she fought in after graduating high school. This was the real deal.

For a moment, Tsukiyo just froze to the spot. Her entire body felt as though it was beginning to drown amidst an endless tide. Fear wracked her body. In comparison to everybody sat in here she felt so horribly small and insignificant, the dark horse at best.

Her hands shook fearfully for a moment, "….Should I just… give up?"

Thoughts of the past materialized from the back of Tsuki's mind. She remember her teenage years growing up. The smile on her little brother's face, it was something she could never forget no matter how dark times became. Though he was not here now, his memory would always live on. Against the odds, the pleasant past she shared with her family would always at the core of who she was.

"I'm not running away," Tsukiyo clenched her fist with determination and walked toward the sign up desk.

"Can I help you miss? Do you have a reservation with us?" The clerk gave a warm smile of welcoming. With a tilt of her head she continued, "Miss… you look a little pale. Is there anything I can help you with?"

Tsuki nodded stiffly and softly slammed her hands against the desk. She knew deep down that turning back now was something she could not do. "I want to sign up for the tournament, please."

The smiling clerk reached for her pen with the usual 'customer service' smile. "Of course. Let me just pull up the register on my screen."

This was the biggest decision of her life so far, Tsuki felt it more and more with every second that slid by. Sometimes a choice could be good, and sometimes it could also be bad. This time, a matter of love and respect motivating her choice. The feeling of being way out of her league had set in from the moment she walked through the door. However, it was not something she was letting stop her.

"Sign here please," The receptionist pushed a piece of paper forward.

Tsukiyo eyed it carefully. You could never be too careful when signing a contract these days. A single signature could change everything when it was bound to a piece of paper.

"….No, I can't just turn away," she whispered, much to the dismay of the clerk who eyed her with a little confusion.

Finally, Tsuki steeled herself for the trials ahead. She reached for the pen next to the paper, and scribbled her name.

' _Tsukiyo Nishimura'_

Smiling, the clerk took the form back and shuffled it into the filing system along with all of the others.

A room key was pushed out in front of Tsukiyo. Confused, she raised a brow, "What is this for, if you don't mind me asking?"

The clerk held her customer service smile once again, "Every fighter participating in the tournament is allocated a room here until the tournament comes to a close. Your room number is Eight-Nine-Seven, on the eighth floor. Please enjoy your stay, and welcome… to the King of Iron Fist Tournament Six."

 **To be continued...**

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 **Thanks again for taking the time to read these first two chapters through until the end. If you enjoyed them please let me know!**

 **Also, for those of you who are interested in reading more of my stories, I also have projects based on games such as Fire Emblem, Dynasty Warriors and even Huniepop. So, please feel free to read more if you like. Your feedback and support are most appreciated.**


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